Slices of Saturday
by Concolor44
Summary: A few possibly-related-down-the-road drabbles. Titans in their off-time. Rating may change depending on how cheeky and overt the characters get.
1. Chapter 1

**Slices of Saturday**

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_A/N: I guess you could consider these 'drabbles'. They don't have a whole lot of point to them, and they only hang together sort of partially (more or less like the vignettes in "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem") so take from them what you will. And, as usual, I have no stake, financial or otherwise, in the ownership and/or income-producing aspects of the Teen Titans. This is presented solely for my own edification and the enjoyment of the reader. Think of it as 'practice'._

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For nearly a minute the low hum of the Tower's central air conditioning was the only sound any of them could hear. But then things went back to normal. The door to the common room swooshed open and Cyborg rumbled in with a shout of, "I got it!" as he waved a video game case over his head. "Damn, I'm good!"

There was no immediate response to his pronouncement, so he took a good look at the current occupants: Raven was tucked up in the far right corner on the carpeted platform he'd built for her a few months earlier, a large book open on her lap; Jericho and Hotspot were playing chess at the kitchen counter, both their faces screwed into expressions of deep concentration; Jinx sat on the sofa reading her e-book, with Wally's head in her lap while she toyed absently with his hair; and Bee was seated at the main console, reading the police blotter. Just after Victor's entrance she hit a key on the board, and mellow strains of piano jazz wafted subtly about the room.

Somewhat deflated at this lack of enthusiasm on the part of his teammates, the elder Titan walked over to stand beside his temporary team leader. "Hey, Bee."

"Hey."

"Um … where's the Green Bean?"

She snorted. "It was awful. He was snoggin' Terra silly in the kitchen, an' Rae told 'em to get a room. So they did."

"Nor has it helped materially," remarked the empath from her perch.

"Hey, at least you don't have to put up with them _**and**_ Star and Rob."

"And no one is happier than I that our Illustrious Leader decided to celebrate their engagement with a visit to Cancun for a week." She pointed in the general direction of Terra's room. "Nevertheless, if _**they**_ don't tone down that hormonal hurricane soon, I will have to take myself elsewhere."

Jinx smirked up at her. "Like, say, for instance … Café Amadeus?"

Raven failed to get her hood up before the other girl noted her blush. Laughter bloomed in the pink eyes, and Jinx followed her comment with, "Keep it up, girl, Roy's gonna be so jealous he'll swell up and pop."

"Serves him right," said Wally, though his voice was muffled from talking into Jinx's stomach.

"How you fig?"

Repositioning himself slightly, he met her eyes and grinned. "God, you're beautiful."

She popped his arm and said, "Don't change the subject." But he could tell from her soft smile that she liked the compliment.

"Okay," continued Wally, turning onto his back and getting comfortable, "Ol' Roy, he's a player, right?"

"He'll be the first one to admit it. So?"

"So he tried that crap with Raven and she cut him off at the knees."

"Yeah, I know. Saw her do it. Thing o' beauty, it was."

"Well, there you go."

"Still missing your point, here. He acts that way with every girl he flirts with."

Wally held up an exclamatory finger. "That's my point! She didn't _swoooon_ over his charms and that just _**wasn't**_ something that happened to the Crown Prince of Booty Calls, like, ever. My guess is that she left him wanting more. He got to thinking about her, then obsessing over her, then …"

"Young Master Flash," intoned Raven darkly, "there are any number of small and uncomfortable parallel dimensions where you could cool your heels for a few days if you continue this line of reasoning."

Jinx laid a finger across his lips and said, "I'd shut up while I still could if I were you." And she began lightly dragging the nails of her left hand over his scalp.

His eyes rolled back and he made a few soft moan-y sounds before answering, "Twist my arm."

Jinx, however, couldn't resist another dig at Raven. "Maybe Roy'd like a nice chai latte himself. What do you think?"

"I think," said the empath in exasperation, "that you have a big mouth and a totally wicked imagination."

"No arguments."

"And Roy doesn't drink … um …"

"Can't think whether to call it coffee or tea, can you?"

"… He doesn't drink either one. So it's moot. And I …" She grimaced in sudden discomfort as a long, high, barely-heard squeal edged its way under the door from the hall. "By the gods, I have had _enough_ of _**that!**_" Her Great Bird form wrapped her in its inky cloak and carried her through the ceiling.

Hotspot looked up from his game, frowning. "Somethin' wrong?"

Jinx laughed hard at that. "I think Terra would have to say … no. Definitely not."

Victor and Jericho both blushed, but Bee joined the hex-caster in her mirth. "Got that right! Heh. She's let me in on a few of the …"

"Bee!" interrupted the cyborg, "do ya mind?"

"Hey, no prob. Just sayin'. He's a shapeshifter, you know."

Covering both his ears and loping out of the room, Victor said, "LALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU." This only sent the two girls into further peals of laughter.

Hotspot looked blankly between the two now-helplessly-giggling super-heroines, then turned back to Jericho. "Did I miss somethin'?"

_Don't worry about it_, he signed, _it's your move. I took your knight._

The other boy shrugged and studied the board.

Wally asked, "Is there anything else you can pipe in, Bee? That piano stuff's gettin' old."

She didn't even look over at him. "Adjust."

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_A/N: Now, I wonder where Raven went? Maybe we'll find out next time._


	2. Chapter 2

**Slices of Saturday**

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_A/N: Further experiments in drabbling. And as always, sadly, I do not own the Teen Titans. If I did, they'd still be on the air (the REAL ones, not that new chibi-ized crap) and it would be a decidedly racier show._

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Café Amadeus was owned and operated by a middle-aged Hungarian couple and their daughter. The upscale coffee shop occupied a storefront on Philadelphia Avenue, a well-traveled street that served as a border of sorts between the Financial District and one of the older residential neighborhoods. Throughout its former existence, this space had housed a hat shop, an art studio, a bottle store, and three different restaurants, usually interspersed with lengthy periods of non-tenancy.

The current flock of customers were unanimous in their agreement that this latest incarnation was by far the best. Mr. and Mrs. Herceg were true masters of the art when it came to roasting coffee beans, and supplied their brand to several of the better restaurants in Jump City. To complement the excellent coffees, lattes, breves, and cappuccinos, Mrs. Herceg kept the display cases filled with toothsome pastries and delightful tortes (which, frankly, drew in at least as many customers as did the brews).

In addition, they had a vast array of loose tea for sale, and it was for this reason that Raven had searched out the place to begin with. She came for the tea. She stayed for the atmosphere. For while the owners were actually from Hungary, Mr. Herceg had a deep and abiding love for all things Mozart (thus the name), and he decorated the place accordingly, from the framed reprints of musical scores on the walls to the period-authentic overstuffed furniture. It wasn't exactly dark, although the wallpaper was patterned in a rich brown, but there was a muted feel to the place, enhanced by the low strains of string quartets or violin sonatas, that always soothed something in the empath. She gained a level of contentment there, a feeling of sated satisfaction that spread to anyone who crossed the threshold, and it was an experience that she treasured even more than the steeping blend of sweet herbs, flowers, and spice currently wafting past her delicate nose.

She caught wind of his presence while he was still walking up the street toward the café. That … _**exotic**_ blend of anticipation, suppressed lust, admiration, and humor, tinged with just the slightest soupcon of fear, sent a tiny frisson of delight down her back … it sort of reminded her of the emotional equivalent of an excellent chai. She'd been hoping he would drop by – although she wouldn't have admitted it under torture – and engage her in that droll banter of his.

Mrs. Herceg had installed a small clutch of tiny silver bells on a flexible shaft at the top of the wide entry door. It didn't hit anything when someone came in, but the collection would shake, giving off a subdued tinkling. Raven kept her gaze resolutely zeroed on her tea cup, even after the _**huge**_ spike of transcendent joy that hit her when he caught sight of the back of her head.

He didn't come over to her right away, although she certainly could tell he wanted to. He was perfectly well aware of the fact that she could feel his presence. This was part of their game: who would make the overture, who would first acknowledge the other's presence. Thus far, she was up fifteen rounds to ten. (Fifteen to eleven if one counted the first time they met here, which he did and she didn't, as she hadn't known about the game at the time. Neither would budge on his or her version of the virtual score, though.)

She could hear him just fine as he gave his order to the barista, his detailed and exacting requirements bringing a smirk to her lips. The smile was quickly suppressed, though, before he could get a glimpse of it. He'd be just as likely as not to call that an acknowledgement, and they would devolve into a lengthy debate over semantics. Diverting, but not as much fun as some of their other topics.

He didn't have to wait very long on his tall soy mocha caffè breve with triple cinnamon and the small extra-dark-chocolate shavings, and carried his drink (and a generous lemon square) to a tiny table two spots removed from Raven's. He took a sizeable bite of the confection and leaned back in his chair, chasing it with a long sip as he stared at the roasting kettle behind the bar.

Raven closed her eyes and concentrated on the lovely aroma of her tea … and the truly astounding levels of excitement coming from the auburn-haired man two tables away. It was almost heady, and she wondered at the root cause. He'd not been that keyed up at any of their other meetings. Opening one eye and trying to examine him as best she could using only peripheral vision, his outward appearance gave no clue. But then he had always been quite adept at hiding his real emotions. Almost as good as she.

The barista came over and said, "You need anything else? Freshen your tea?"

Raven noticed a lull in the traffic. In addition to her theoretical companion, there were two couples and an animated threesome scattered around the establishment and no one waiting for an order. "Not just at present. Thank you, though."

"Okay." She sauntered over to the nearer of the two couples and engaged them in conversation. They all seemed to know each other.

The empath's gaze slid back around and glanced off the other table's lone occupant … only to find him standing beside her chair! She couldn't quite suppress a small jerk of her shoulders. "Jason?"

"Sorry. I know this derails the game and all, but …" He placed a hand on the back of the other chair. "May I?"

Surprised, she nodded. "Um … I guess that's sixteen for me now." She was a little let down by this abrupt ending of their contest, but at the same time found herself growing impatient to find out what had him so worked up.

His loss of the current round didn't seem to faze him, his dark gray eyes nearly glowing with eagerness. "Yeah. Sixteen." The chair made a stuttering squeak as he slid it out, spun it around, and straddled it. He grinned broadly. "I did it."

His excitement – and his nearly-overwhelming physical presence – was threatening to overload her senses. Blinking a few times, she asked, "Did what?"

"Talked to them."

"… Talked … Talked to who?"

Leaning forward and dropping his voice, he replied, "Those Perseus people."

Her gasp would have been loud enough to draw attention from the rest of the patrons if the threesome hadn't been quite so vocal. Glancing around and clearing her throat, she held his gaze as she whispered, "You mean the Perseus Initiative? That black-ops bunch?"

"Yep. Turns out they have their operatives grouped into teams by skill set. They have one team that specializes in 'covert extractions' and they're interested in getting me started there! Isn't that awesome?!"

Slowly, she leaned back until she rested against her chair, her eyes never leaving his … and never betraying the maelstrom that descended on her mind. Her thoughts whirled into chaos as he nattered on about the prospects.

_He's going to join Perseus._

_He will have to leave._

_Nobody else orders coffee the way he does._

_Their training facilities are in top secret locations._

_He will have to leave._

_How am I supposed to enjoy my tea if I can't talk to him?_

_He will be in training, and completely out of contact with the rest of the world, for upwards of a year._

_He will have to __**leave**__._

_We won't be able to talk._

_I won't be able to see him, hear him, experience his …_

_He will have to LEAVE!_

_I don't want to be alone!_

Raven swallowed, and then swallowed again. The last four weeks had been the most consistently pleasant of her life. She had grown very, very used to meeting him here. The prospect of not seeing him for what could be many months was … it was just beyond … how was she supposed to …

_Wait. Is he still talking? … Yes? Talking about … what?_

"… that if I keep my nose clean, they'll expunge my record! I love that word. Don't you think that's a cool word? Doesn't it make you think of Sponge Bob?"

"… Expunge your record? Really? Can they do that?"

"Hey, they're a spook organization. I think even the CIA is scared of 'em. I got the solid impression they can do pretty much whatever the hell they want." He frowned and reached over, laid his hand on one of hers. "Hey. You okay?"

"… What?"

"You look sort of … shell shocked." His other hand insinuated itself under hers, and he entwined their fingers with a small frown. "I'm sorry. I just dumped that on you. I should have been more …"

"No! No, it's … not a problem." She drew a deep breath and forced a smile. "That's great news. It would really lift a burden to get your record cleared."

But Jason, though not technically an empath, was a student of the human condition and very quick on the uptake. He pulled his lower lip in between his teeth. "You're upset."

"Uh … no, not …"

"What did I do wrong? I thought you _wanted_ me to become an 'ex' thief."

"I do! Really. I'm … really happy for you."

He cocked his head to one side and studied her face. "You know, you've gotten out of the habit of lying. You kinda suck at it anymore."

"But I am!"

"Uh-huh. So then it's the circumstances of my reformation that blindsided you?"

"… um …"

He nodded. "Like I said. You don't fib for crap."

Casting her gaze to her left, she suddenly found the pastry counter fascinating.

He used a forefinger to pull her face back around to his. "It's not like I'm moving to another planet."

She kept her eyes dry through sheer force of will, nodding in agreement. "I know."

A gentle smile crept over his lips. She felt another spike of joy. "Rae? I didn't know you cared that much."

Oddly, neither did she. Or maybe, out of fear of the consequences, she simply hadn't paid any attention to her growing affection, and _**that**_ thought frightened her quite thoroughly. "I, uh, need … need to, um, get back to … back to the …"

"No."

Several deliberate blinks followed that declarative, as she stared mutely into his eyes.

"Rae … you aren't alone."

That phrase echoed a similar one she'd heard some years back, which didn't help her mental state at all. "What?"

"Okay … look. I know you're able to read my emotions like a newspaper. I also know you don't pry because it wouldn't be polite. But, Rae …" He gently cupped her face, and could feel the tiny shivers of stress that slipped past her control. "Rae. Would you read me now?"

Would she? She wasn't entirely certain that she could … or, if she could, that she'd manage it without damaging him. "I'm … I'm not …"

"Please? For me?"

A hesitant hand reached up and clasped his wrist, and he just barely heard a whispered, "All right."

His emotions were already battering away at her shield, so it was no trick to locate their focus. Opening her mind just the tiniest crack, she let his feelings, thoughts and urges trickle in … and nearly lost her control.

Love.

Unabashed and flowing and pure.

He had been waiting on her, patient and content, in the grip of a love the likes of which she had never before personally felt.

Once, two years back, Robin had insisted that the Titans take a night off and visit the carnival while it was in town. As usual, Raven tried to get out of it, but the rest of them were firm. Jinx had been a brand-spanking-new addition to the team, and she was a roiling, seething ball of 'nervous' around Raven. Robin felt that a relaxed atmosphere would help her integration.

Relaxed. Hah. Good one, Rob.

Raven had fortified her mind shield and allowed herself to be pulled up and down the fairway by her enthusiastic teammates. She had tried to tell Robin that she harbored no ill will toward Jinx, that she had given the pinkette a thorough scan and was satisfied as to her goals and motivations. But Bird Boy was being his usual obtuse self where personal interaction was concerned, and couldn't be moved.

All had been well (more or less) until the Ferris wheel's drive train seized up and snapped the chain. Half a dozen couples had been stranded for close to five minutes while maintenance tried to get it working, and the Titans knew nothing about it until a sharp _CRACK_ rang down the midway and the wheel dropped about a hand-span … and slowly started tipping over.

They sprang into action. Beast Boy morphed into a giant mammoth and leaned against the wheel, keeping it from falling. Starfire and Raven quickly evacuated the ride, and then Raven used a saddle-block of soul-self to hold it in place to give the repair crew, aided significantly by Cyborg, time to set everything to rights.

She hadn't given it a second thought, once they were finished. They were heroes. It's what they did. And, hey, this time there wasn't even anyone trying to burn their heads off with a death ray. It was a solid WIN.

But she hadn't counted on the gratitude of those rescued, and as soon as she touched down, she got radically glomped.

Her normal reaction would have involved tossing them off with a relatively high level of violence, possibly including broken bones, but even through her shock and surprise, one towering emotion dominated: Love. The young couple hugging her, in a decent imitation of Starfire's best, were completely, staggeringly in love with each other, and their thankfulness knew no bounds. It took Raven a few tries to get her shield back up … but then she wasn't sure she wanted to keep it. That taste of true love left little sparks zipping all through her psyche, and … and she …

She wanted more.

But hastily she stuffed that thought back under a rock in Nevermore, and extracted herself from the hug. They were very welcome, no bother, glad to do it, now I must be going. Her usual spiel.

But that feeling, that unsullied emotion stayed with her for weeks.

And the intensity of _that_ experience was hardly even worth _mentioning_ when compared to what she was feeling from Jason at this very second. She stared at him in wonder, her mouth slack.

"I'll be gone a while, true. But I will come back. Now that I know I might even have a chance at … well. Knowing that you might feel the same way, maybe a little bit, there is nothing on this earth that will keep me from you, once I'm square with the law." He leaned in and deposited a chaste kiss on her temple. "And that's a promise."

She stared at him solemnly as he sat back in his chair, still overcome by the utter truth of his proclamation, but at length she gave him an abbreviated nod. "I can wait."

His smile, if possible, grew wider. "Good."

"When will you be leaving?"

"I'm supposed to report to the intake center Tuesday at four."

"Hm. Three days." She appropriated his hand. "I do believe the team can do without me for three days."

The torrent of glee that flowed in through their contact was all the encouragement she needed.

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_A/N: I have shamelessly stolen the "Café Amadeus" idea from the coffee shop where my daughter works as a barista. If you're ever in Indiana, PA, you should drop by and try the soy latte. You SERIOUSLY won't regret it! (And say "Hi!" to Lucy for me!)_

_Also, I have equally shamelessly "borrowed" the Perseus Initiative from Silently Watches' OUTSTANDING story "Consequence of Misunderstanding", and I beg his forgiveness for kinking the details a little. But seriously, it's just too good a concept NOT to use when the opportunity arises._


End file.
